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Aeraie

Aeraie

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Armies of Gielinor - H'ween 2011

Post 1: Information
Post 2-3: Lunestruck's piece
Post 4-5: Roleutrio's piece (Dutch)
Post 6-9: iC*uk's piece

27-Sep-2012 22:32:39 - Last edited on 02-Oct-2012 00:31:52 by Aeraie

Aeraie

Aeraie

Posts: 9,100 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
--------------------- Lunestruck ---------------------
1st Place, Armies of Gielinor (Saradomin)

I circled the pinnacle of the fortress, gazing over the battlefield. The cold evening wind bit at my face; the Sun was hidden behind a veil of clouds, offering no succour. Beneath me, the thunderous drums of war matched my powerful wing-beats, yet the armies stood still with unfazed determination. My fellow Icyenes were resting on the ground, saving every bit of ardour for the battle. Keen eyes watched my every move with hatred; I was the Icyene who betrayed Saradomin.

I sought what Zaros embodied; The Empty Lord, nothingness itself, was what I believed in. Despite his influence, force was necessary to spread his views and fight back everyone’s desires. The other two gods had no goal, engaging in meaningless violence for the sake of control. After Zaros purged the world of their thirst for power, there would be nothing to stop his endeavour.

In everyone’s eyes, I was mad, a lunatic, for believing what I did. The most glorious and devout follower of Saradomin, corrupted by the evil of Zaros. It mattered not, however, that I warned Zaros of the approaching danger and joined him, for the battle was inevitable. I had lit the match, but the gods had spread the oil.

My fellow warriors bore no judgment in their hearts, a courtesy I could never expect from the opposing forces. A monstrous thirst for battle glazed their eyes, their mouths and claws twitching in anticipation of the order Zaros would give. A simple flick of the Zarosian General’s wrist, and the army’s battle cry shook the heavens. Emitting throat-splitting screeches, they bolted into the nightmare.

27-Sep-2012 22:33:02 - Last edited on 01-Oct-2012 23:51:34 by Aeraie

Aeraie

Aeraie

Posts: 9,100 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
I stayed back and watched the horror unfold. Swords clashed with claws, arrows pierced acquiescent flesh, spells charred armour. This was not what I desired. I painfully observed Saradomin’s forces. Their lean, animal forms gracefully navigated the battlefield, fighting back our brutish forces. What was I now, by supporting the monsters on my side? Hate, and hated; cruelty, and cruel. Violence, evil, was not what I stood for.

Zaros watched from his temple, wearing a disturbingly blank expression. Why did he choose this as the route to peace? In that brief moment of clarity, I understood that he could not fulfill his ideal. The only ones fighting for a just cause were the blue-clad warriors resisting the evil. I dove into the battlefield, determined to help my true comrades bring peace.

27-Sep-2012 22:33:08 - Last edited on 01-Oct-2012 23:51:57 by Aeraie

Aeraie

Aeraie

Posts: 9,100 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
----------------------- Roleutrio -----------------------
2nd Place, Armies of Gielinor (Saradomin)

NOTE: THE FOLLOWING PIECE IS WRITTEN IN DUTCH


“Waarom nemen jullie niet de rest van de dag vrij?”
“Bedankt vader” zei Arthon terwijl hij het nieuw gemaakte zwaard aan de kant zette.
“Zin om een hapje te gaan eten in de herberg?”
“Is goed, ik zie je dadelijk zodra ik Alissa heb opgehaald.”
Getweeën liepen ze de smidse uit en sloegen allebei een andere richting in.

Glimlachend liep Arthon door de straat, hij had helemaal geen honger, Arthon wilde alleen maar naar de herberg om Lertisa te zien, de dochter van de herbergier. Logram vermoedde het waarschijnlijk wel maar had daar niets over gezegd omdat vader erbij stond dacht Arthon, vanavond was Arthon van plan naar haar toe te stappen aangezien hij via zijn nicht te weten is gekomen dat Lertisa ook een oogje op hem had.

Plots klonk er vanuit het midden van de stad een heldere hoornstoot op. Verontrust keek Arthon op, in de verte was een donkere pluim rook te zien, in de richting van de poort, scherp afgetekend tegen de blauwe hemel. Logram was dezelfde richting ingegaan. Met ingespannen ogen keek hij naar de donkere pluim rook, alsof hij op die manier erachter kon komen wat de oorzaak ervan was.
Arthon wilde net richting de donkere pluim rook rennen toen hij vlak daar in de buurt een knal hoorde. "Bij alle goden!" schreeuwde Arthon, een demon, hier!? Er verscheen een reusachtige demon uit de pluim rook en begon alle huizen te verpletteren, langs hem snelde er een eenheid paladijnen richting de demon. Arthon rende achter hun aan maar werd tegen gehouden door een van hen, "ga naar het zuiderkwartier en blijf daar" zei de paladijn. "Nee! Ik moet weten of alles in orde is met mijn broer!" Schreeuwde Arthon tegen de paladijn. Opeens voelde Arthon een hand op zijn schouder en hoorde zach* onverstaanbaar gefluister in zijn hoofd, alles werd zwart voor zijn ogen.

27-Sep-2012 22:40:19 - Last edited on 01-Oct-2012 23:52:18 by Aeraie

Aeraie

Aeraie

Posts: 9,100 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Arthon stond kuchend op, hij rook de stank van verbrand vlees en hout en toen hij naar de richting keek waar hij de demon had gezien zag hij dat het noorderkwartier totaal was verwoest op een aantal gebouwen na. Opeens kwam er een monnik naar hem toe gerend. "Wat is er gebeurd?" Vroeg Arthon.
"Het noorderkwartier van de stad is verwoest, er zijn tientallen gewonden en doden, er zijn zelfs een aantal inwoners meegenomen door het vijandelijke leger, meer weten we niet."

Wordt vervolgd...

27-Sep-2012 22:40:26 - Last edited on 01-Oct-2012 23:53:00 by Aeraie

Aeraie

Aeraie

Posts: 9,100 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
------------------- iChuk -------------------
1st Place, Round 1, H'ween 2011

The warrior traversed over fallen trees and roots intertwining themselves across the cobblestone. This trip towards Draynor Manor would be quite the task, he thought to himself. Using his agile skills he'd attained throughout his knighthood, the warrior finally arrived at the front of the manor. The sight of house took his breath away. The warrior made his way up the steps, but before he could grasp the handle, the doors swung wide open. A deep, horrific voice spoke out to the warrior.

"Sir," it whispered, like dead leaves scraping over dried flesh. "Sir..."

The warrior's head whipped around, eyes searching for the voice's owner. There was nothing. Just the quiet moaning of a weary breeze and the scratch of dead branches in the trees, just the last purples of dusk fading on the horizon; there was no one, nothing that could have uttered words. But he had heard them. He knew he had, but now he began to doubt. Shrugging his shoulders, he turned back towards the doors that had opened before him.

That they had opened on their own was odd, but the inside of the mansion was odder, stranger than anything he had ever seen on his wondrous journeys through Gielinor. Even if he had no affinity for the arcane himself, he knew its effects, and knew likewise that this manor had magic graven in its timbers, ingrained so deeply that the spells might have come before the boards. Even he could feel it pulsing in his being. He almost did not hear the doors slam shut behind him, and that fact, that he had been so oblivious, grounded him more than the slamming doors themselves. Almost afraid at what he would find, he reached for the handles. The doors did not budge an inch, no matter how he strained.

27-Sep-2012 22:40:32 - Last edited on 01-Oct-2012 23:53:21 by Aeraie

Aeraie

Aeraie

Posts: 9,100 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
The pulsing seeped back into his awareness, stronger this time, trying to overcome him, and he recognized it for what it was. Laughter, ancient and dark, rhythmic in its rasping drone. The warrior shuddered, tried the doors again, but with no more success than before.

"Sir..."

The voice came again, louder and more urgent. He looked around, trying once more to trace its source. A threatening staircase, old and leaning, boards rotten and twisted loomed before him, disappearing into the darkness of upper levels. A lone flickering torch cast its fitful light through the room, deepening shadows and illuminating a crimson carpet -- clear of dust -- draped along the stairs as if to cover their disrepair. How the torch was lit, the warrior hardly dared wonder; there had been no footprints besides his own on the approaching path.

He took a step towards the stairs, and the floor squeaked. It turned into a wail as his weight shifted, and he cringed, trying to cover his ears through his helmet. Only when he stepped back did the screeching calm, but then he heard the voice yet again.

"Please, Sir… Help me…"

This time he managed to trace its source to a twisted door to his right, hanging slightly open on rusty hinges. He stepped towards it, but that step screeched too, volume only increasing as he leapt from one floorboard to the next. The squeals rose behind him in a haunted chorus, never-ending now that he was away from the entrance. By the time he flung open the door to the next room, he was sprinting, booted feet pounding across the floor in rhythm with the screams. As soon as he was clear, he slammed the door behind him, and leaned against it, panting. But the voice came again, drawing him onward like a moth to lantern.

"Sir…"

27-Sep-2012 22:40:38 - Last edited on 01-Oct-2012 23:54:33 by Aeraie

Aeraie

Aeraie

Posts: 9,100 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Three paces -- blessedly silent -- found him at the top of another staircase, more rickety than the first. It disappeared downwards into a black abyss that hid its feet. The warrior hesitated, but that was where he had heard the voice. The first step was the hardest, and his foot fell lightly on the board, his breath held while he waited for it to splinter beneath his weight. It held, and the rest were easier. By the time he reached the bottom, darkness shrouded him, darkness so deep that he could see neither his hand nor the upper end of the staircase. He shuddered, and almost turned back, but the voice came yet again.

"Help me, Sir..."

It was close now, just ahead of him. He moved forward cautiously, one arm stretched out before him. His hand brushed something only once, something that tumbled away with the sickening sound of crunching bone. The warrior stopped and closed his eyes. He swallowed, but thought of the voice calling for his aid. As if summoned, it came again, so close now. A new note entered its summons, not so raspy. Almost clear. And eager.

"Sir... You can help me, Sir!"

He forced himself forward and brushed something that rustled like cloth, but seemed too stiff, too dry. He pulled it aside, revealing a small room, lit once more by a lone torch flickering in one corner. One wall, the one he had come through, was made only of hangings like the one he had pushed aside -- hangings that made him retch. Not cloth at all, but flesh dried and stretched. Some of the skins still had dangling fingers and toes. Some still bore the shape of faces warped by pain. The warrior barely managed to tear off his helmet before he vomited onto skulls and bones that littered the floor beneath his feet.

"Come now," the voice said, laughing now, pulsing in his soul. "I welcome you into my humble home and you respond with a mess? I thought a fighter such as yourself would have a stronger stomach."

27-Sep-2012 22:41:31 - Last edited on 01-Oct-2012 23:54:52 by Aeraie

Aeraie

Aeraie

Posts: 9,100 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
The warrior looked up, eyes darting in terror. A shape moved, slipping from shadows in the corner opposite the torch, swaying into the light. She was tall, taller than he, with a face as pale as the moon and beautiful as the stars. Her hair, blacker than any night, rippled to her pale shoulders, almost to her sleeveless sable dress. His terror vanished, and she filled his head, the soft lines of her lips inviting him closer. He dropped to one knee before her, bowing his head.

"My Lady, you called for me."

"Oh yes," she said, her voice not rasping at all. It was beautiful now, full and rich. A voice to make his heart beat faster, with a face and curves to match. "I did. I need you, Sir."

He looked up, drowning in red eyes that gazed back into his own. "Anything, my Lady. I'll help you in any way I can."

She smiled, teeth like tiny daggers shining in the torch's light. Her hand swept out, lifting his chin, exposing his neck. "Very good," she chuckled. "Yes, very good. I have not fed in a such long, long time."

27-Sep-2012 22:41:37 - Last edited on 01-Oct-2012 23:55:21 by Aeraie

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